


Newton's First Law of Motion

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it." </p><p>Hermann and Newton might have remained as they always have been: antagonistically cooperative towards the mutual goal of saving the world from the Kaiju threat, were it not for Hermann finding him prone and twitching on the floor of their lab after he's tested his theory about drifting with the damaged Kaiju brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newton's First Law of Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Because I rewatched "Pacific Rim" the other day, and was once again drawn in by these two adorable geeks, and I can't seem to get enough of the trope where Person A confesses a hell of a lot more than they meant to to Person B the object of their affections, because they thought they were dead/imaginary/etc. Rating is mostly just because there are a few swears, but is otherwise pretty appropriate for general audiences.
> 
> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? I write for all manner of fandoms and ships! Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

_**"Kaiju-human drift experiment take one. The uh... the brain segment is the frontal lobe, and um- chances are the segment is far too damaged to drift with. Unscientific aside- Hermann, if you're listening to this: well I'm either alive, and I've proven what I've just done works. In which case, ha, I won. Or I'm dead, and I'd like you to know it's all your fault. It really is. You know you drove me to this, in which case- ha, I also won.  --Sort of. Going in in three... two... one. *grunt of surprise followed by silence, then dull thud of body falling to the floor*"  
** _

 

* * *

 

"Newton! Newton! What have you done? No... No, no, no Newt, you cannot do this to me," a voice from above him calls desperately as he struggles to get a sense of himself and his surroundings. _Right, he tried to drift with a Kaiju. Well, part of a Kaiju. Damn, that had hurt. Scratch that, it still hurts_ , he thinks, groaning softly.

"Herms," the young scientist coughs, trying and failing to sit up against the cool tank that still houses the piece of Kaiju brain responsible for his current state. His vision's still a bit blurred, so he keeps his eyes shut for a moment while the world stops spinning, before finally forcing them open, trying to focus on the man kneeling beside him. Huh, he's never actually seen Hermann look worried like that before. _Which is kind of strange right? E_ verybody is facing down potentially the end of the world, and probably nobody on the planet knows that so well as those at the Shatterdome, the two of them especially. But Hermann looks- well, impossibly fragile somehow. He's distantly aware of the other scientist helping him up into a nearby chair, doing his best to look him over and assess him for any injuries despite not having much in the way of medical knowledge. Hermann hands him a tissue for his nose, which seems to be bleeding, and grabs him a glass of water with instructions to drink it, slowly. And then he's dashing off again, as fast as he can hobble with his bum leg and cane, which is actually a lot faster than Newt has been giving him credit for. His leg bounces, almost without his awareness or consent, hands shake as he brings the glass of water up to his lips, and promptly attempts to choke, coughing back up most of what he took in while he waits for Hermann and the Marshall to return. The images the Kaiju showed him are still assaulting him, burned into his retinas as he blinks, trying to focus on the lab and his immediate surroundings to pull himself back to the present, but everything seems hazy, the room appears to be swimming. Was Hermann really here, or did he only think- wish that he was? Memories and fantasies all seem to be blurring together with flickers of electric blue images and harsh sounds. His head hurts. His eyes too. His depth perception seems to have gone a bit awry, like maybe one of them is working a bit better than the other, so he tries to focus on his knees, on his tattoo sleeves, anything immediately in front of him to give them a break.

The Marshall is back with Hermann. Or at least, he thinks that they are. He sees them, but then he also thought he saw his mother a moment ago, and he knows that's impossible. But the Marshall is asking for answers, for what he saw while he was drifting, and it can't hurt to at least attempt to collect and make sense of the Kaiju's thoughts.

"You know it was only a fragment of a brain, so really all I was able to get was a series of- uh, images- or, or- impressions, you know like when you blink your eyes over and over and over again, and all you really see are like frames. It was.. emotional, and uh-" The Marshall interrupts, and calls for him to look at him, to focus, and he's trying, really he is. Hermann looks- well, actually Newt can see well enough to tell what expression his colleague is wearing at the moment, but he's sure it's one of his usual standby's either anger or frustration directed his way. Newt's actually a little glad he can't see it, bringing his attention back to the Marshall, even as he continues to rock and twitch in the chair.

"Okay," he sniffs, tasting the slight coppery tang of blood in the back of his mouth. "Okay. Well I don't feel like they're just following some sort of animalistic urge, you know just to- hunting and gathering. I think they're attacking us under orders," he manages.

"That's impossible," Hermann replies from somewhere farther away.

"Is it impossible," Newt asks, trying hard to focus on the other scientist, to make the image of him sharper, more solidified as he swims a little in front of his eyes.

"It's impossible. Because-" Hermann begins in the same tone he usually uses to shut down most of the younger man's theories, in a tone that always manages to make Newt feel just a little bit stupid and childish. He feels his voice raising along with his hackles to defend himself. He's not stupid. Well, not about this at least. He saw it. Straight from the Kaiju's brain. Hermann didn't drift with him, he doesn't know what he saw, what he felt, while they were connected. He doesn't understand. He can't. But the Marshall is shouting over both of them, calling them to order, and urging him to continue, and so he does, swallowing and setting aside the slight twinge of bitterness that of course, even after all of this Hermann still doesn't believe him, still thinks he's a bumbling child someone accidentally let into his lab where the serious science is done.

"These beings, these masters- they're colonists. They overtake worlds. They just consume them, and then they- they move on to the next. And they've been here before, on a sort of a-trial run. It was the dinosaurs. But the atmosphere wasn't conducive, right? So they waited it out, and they waited it out. And now you know with the ozone depletion and carbon-dioxide polluted waters, well we've practically terraformed it for them. Cause now they're coming back- and it's perfect. See the first wave, that was just the hounds. Categories 1-4 it was nothing! Their sole purpose was to aim for the populated areas and take out the vermin. Us! The second wave that is the exterminators, and they will finish the job. And then, the new tenants will take possession. -See the reason that I found the identical DNA in the two separate Kaiju organs is because they are grown!"

Marshall is demanding that he repeat the process, get them more information, and Newt thinks that for a moment he hears some kind of strangled noise of protest, but it isn't him, and that can't be right, because the only other person here- if either of them are in fact here at all- is Hermann. And what would he care if he drifts with a Kaiju, perhaps even more of a Kaiju brain next time. Hermann doesn't even believe that it worked, and he certainly cares very little for Newt himself. The Marshall doesn't respond to his query about additional brains, but takes his leave, perhaps to go see about procuring one. His debrief now finished, Newt closes his eyes with a soft moan, pressing a hand over them to block out the light for a moment. The world still feels a bit like it's spinning. He's not really tired, but he thinks maybe, if he could just lie down for a little while- he might not feel so dizzy. Did he hit his head when he fell to the floor though? It could be dangerous to sleep if he's got some sort of concussion...

He's not entirely sure how he got back to his bunk, he doesn't remember any of the process of getting there. He blinks and suddenly he's sitting on his bunk. His eyes seem to be doing a little better now, though the idea of giving them a break to stare at the back of his eyelids for awhile still sounds pretty damn appealing. Hermann is at the foot of the bed, untying and helping him to toe off his shoes, and pulling back the comforter to help him slide in and he laughs, because now he knows he must have hit his head, because there's no way this is really happening. Imaginary Hermann sounds almost like the real thing when he orders him to get some rest, but there's just enough of a hint of concern there Newt's definitely never heard before to continue to water that seed of doubt. He lets his eyes close, already feeling a little better, even more so when the lights are turned off, but he misses the weight at the end of his bed where Hermann had been perched, even if it was imaginary.

"You called me Newt," he recalls surprised, without opening his eyes to the dark and empty room around him. "I've been asking you to call me that for months, but you wouldn't budge. Always Newton. Or Dr. Geiszler," he adds with something of an air of distaste at his title.

He doesn't actually expect a response. Hermann isn't really here. Never was. He's talking to himself. But his imaginary Hermann's voice drifts over him in the quiet dark of his bunk anyway.

"But you _are_ a doctor," Hermann replies. "You went to school and earned your degrees, you should be proud of your title."

"But I don't want to be a doctor with you. I mean I do, I- we wouldn't be working together or even have met if I wasn't, but..." Newt shrugs hopelessly, hearing the rustle of his pillow and the blankets around him at the movement, surprised, but pleased when he feels what he's imagined to be Hermann's weight settling back down at the end of the bed beside his hip. His brain is still rattled. Not that most of his attempts to talk to the man he shares his lab with generally go any better than this, but Newt really wants to get what he wants to say out right this time. It's important, he thinks, because once he's said it- botched or not, Hermann probably won't give him a chance to have another go at it. "I don't like that- formality between us. I want to be able to call you Hermann without you getting pissed at me. I want you to call me Newt," he insists softly. "I want-" he hesitates, worrying his lower lip for a moment. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter," he decides chickening out. He can't say it. Not now. Not ever. Not even to his stupid already knowing subconscious for fear of ruining or somehow bringing this whole dream to an end. Much as he irritates Hermann now, he'll hate him, avoid him, maybe even try to transfer if he goes through with everything it is he actually wants to say. It's not as if the mathematician's work has to be done on site like his dissections do. "Anyway what do you care if I'm proud of my degree and my title or not? You can barely stand me," he concludes lamely.

"Maybe you didn't notice, but I can barely stand for more than a few hours without my cane to help me," Hermann replies shaking his head, and adjusting a little on the end of the bed. Newt opens his eyes. He can't actually make out much in the dark and he doesn't know where he put his glasses either, but he thinks for a moment that he might have heard the tiniest hint of a smile, or perhaps amusement in the other man's voice. Yup, definitely a dream.

"You're- That was a joke. You're making a joke? With me? On purpose," the younger scientist says stymied, eyes slowly adjusting to the dim emergency lighting at the edges of the room, slowly focusing on his fellow scientist's profile. "And you're calling me Newt?"

"One time," Hermann corrects, shaking his head.

"Yeah but it was intentional. It was- it mattered," Newt insists. "Oh crap," he gasps, eyes widening as he takes it all in. "I died didn't I? I'm dead. That's why you're suddenly being so nice to me. I hit my head and now- This is all some figment of my imagination or something. God and now you're gonna get back and find- Herm, I'm sorry if anything was on your side of the lab when I... I just really thought it would work. I just wanted to be right," he admits softly, looking away although in the dark of the room there really isn't much else to look at or plausibly focus on.

"You're always so- frustrated and angry with me. I'm sorry- about the log you're going to find. I didn't mean it- what I said about it being your fault when it all went bad. I just-" he shrugs searching for the proper words. "Yeah, I wanted to make you proud of me," he decides, knowing as soon as he says so the words are absolutely true. "Just once, at least."

Imaginary Hermann seems to mull this over for a moment, as if he's trying to decide how best or what to respond to, before finally speaking. "Why on Earth would you care what a stodgy old boffin like me thinks about you," Hermann asks bewildered.

"Boffin? What the hell is that?"

"A scientist. It's a word for a scientist."

"Alright," he nods understanding, slowly adjusting his pillows and pulling himself up to sit back against them so he can better see and speak to the other man. "But old? C'mon, I mean you do have an unhealthy attachment to sweater vests, and I really wish you'd consider doing something a little different with your hair, but you don't even have a handful of years on me. You're not allowed to be old, that would mean I am."

"What exactly is wrong with my hair," Hermann demands sounding a little bit indignant, making the other man laugh.

"Nothing," Newt replies shaking his head, one hand reaching out to touch, still shaky-and wasn't that strange because he's dead so whatever damage that happened to his body it shouldn't matter, right? "Nothing I couldn't have lived with."  _Happily lived with_ , he thinks ruefully. "I wouldn't have cared if you dyed it Kaiju blue."

The younger man laughs softly at the absolutely incredulous look this produces, even if he's only getting hints of the expression in the darkness. They both know of the two of them he'd be the one more likely to sport something so ridiculous. His hand reaches the back of Hermann's neck, fingertips combing over the little hairs there, brushing up the column his neck, and tangling a little in his hair. Hermann shivers, pupils fixing his, eyes never leaving his, a thousand questions, uncertainty and confusion burning in them.

"Newt, what are you doing?" His preferred name on the other man's lips is all the reassurance he needs that he can do this. That none of this is actually real, so the risk he was always afraid to take before, isn't actually a gamble now.

"Something stupid," he laughs softly with his trademark sideways smile, as his hand suddenly applies pressure to the back of the other man's head, pulling him down towards him and closing the gap between them to press his lips against Hermann's, hard.

Hermann doesn't kiss him back, just stays there frozen and dumb, but Newt didn't really expect him to anyway. Even in whatever sort of dream he's having while he's dead or dying on the floor of their lab, it was impossible to think under any circumstances or in any world that Hermann might kiss him, or at least kiss him back. Even his dying subconscious will neither sell or buy that one it seems. Still, he's never been one to shy away from something just because it was seemingly impossible- his trying to drift with a piece of Kaiju is proof enough of that.

 _And yet_... he waited until now; until it's too late for any hope to act on what he's long felt for the man who's begrudgingly shared a room with him. Two of the most unlikely of roommates, the very definition of an odd couple. He's waited until it's all just some figment of his imagination, a pleasant thought before his the last spark of electricity in his brain fizzles out. Somehow it was easier to try and drift with a Kaiju, to play roulette with his life, rather than his heart. And maybe in the end he's not so brave afterall. He wants to be. Had tried to be. Hopefully, if there's anywhere to go after all of this, that counts for something. But seems there's no reason he can't at least try to enjoy these last few moments in the meantime, say all the things he was too afraid to before. 

"Um-So uh, yeah, why I cared what a stodgy boffin like you thinks about me," Newt mumbles when he's finally let go and Hermann has pulled back a little, the older scientist staring uncomprehendingly at him. "But it doesn't matter."

"Why," Hermann asks, sounding confused, blinking owlishly at him.

 _Why?_ _What does he mean why? Should be pretty obvious, shouldn't it?_ Especially to someone who's all business and facts like Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. Not to mention Hermann is just some kind of version of his subconscious, or a product of his imagination right? He ought to have all the knowledge he does. This Hermann should know perfectly well why he's just kissed him.

"Why what?"

"Why doesn't it matter?"

"Because you hate me," Newt replies with something of hollow laugh. _Duh. Plus there's the whole dying thing..._

 But Hermann is shaking his head furiously, "I don't hate you Newt-," the older man replies softly. The way he abruptly stops his sentence makes it obvious that he was going to call him by his full name first, before he caught himself, but that he stopped, or thought to amend himself at all from his default is a first.

"Oh? Is that right Dr. Gottlieb," he asks raising an incredulous eyebrow. Because yeah, he might be dying, but really if this version of his lab partner isn't going to be kissing him in this dream of his, then he certainly doesn't need to baby or lie to him. If the look on the other man's face is any indication, hearing him use the doctor's proper title is every bit as disarming as Hermann calling him by his preferred moniker. "Could have fooled me," he mutters shaking his head.

"That was my intention," Hermann replies with a nod, and managing to look just a little bit sheepish, which is an incredibly strange new look for him.

"Wait, what? You _wanted_ me to think you hated me?"

"Yes. Well, maybe not so much hate, but-"

"Why?"

"Because I like numbers," Hermann ejaculates quickly, before seeming to steady himself to continue. "They're black and white, they have exact values, there's no room for interpretation. I can understand them. They make sense. You-" he pauses frowning a little while he tries to find whatever it is he wants to say. "I cannot make sense of you. You are brilliant, but you're thought process is entirely disjunctive. You're every bit as disorganized with your work-space, and you have _no_ concept of personal space whatsoever," he continues, managing to throw in a small glare at him. "And you're completely reckless," he scolds, gesturing towards where the younger man is still sitting half-slumped against his pillows. "Do you have any idea how dangerous what you did was, or do you just not care? Did you even stop to consider me finding you before you pushed that button?"

"I tried to keep everything on my side..."

"Goddamnit, I don't care if all the wires and your prone _body_ were on your side of the lab, Newton! I care about finding you dead," Hermann snaps angrily.

"It can't have escaped your notice that I'm not- a people person. I did everything in my power," the older scientist continues slowly after taking a deep breath. "Everything I could to push you away. But none of it worked. You just wouldn't take the hint. I have always been alone. I got used to it. No one- nobody has ever stuck around for long. They all find something about me, some reason they can't stand my company anymore. It was only a matter of time, so I did my best to make sure you couldn't miss any of those faults or eccentricities from the start. Better to get it over with. But for all my grumbling and disagreeable attitude you've never once requested another partner, a space or lab of your own since they paired us together."

"No..." Newt admits slowly, not entirely certain of where all of this is headed. "Why didn't you?"

"Because-" Hermann hesitates. "Because I admire you. I _envy_ you- the way your mind works might not be something I'll ever understand, but that doesn't make it any less incredible. Your passion for-" he pauses considering. "Everything," he decides with a small smile. "The way you can be so at ease with anyone. You make me want to be better- more. Perhaps even more like you, or someone you could actually _like_ at least," he confesses, even as the younger man's jaw drops, brows wrinkling in confusion. "And because, despite appearances, I couldn't imagine wanting to work alongside anyone else."

"Then why keep at it? Why let me believe you hate me?"

"Because I am not brave," Hermann admits with a small rueful sort of smile. "Because you, and the idea of losing you terrifies me. Which is why I'm still considering beating you with my cane for being so stupid!"

"So you-" Newt stammers, trying to wrap his head around it all. "No," he mumbles, looking suddenly crestfallen and shaking his head. "I'm imagining all this," Newt sighs, closing his eyes so he won't have to look at the other man anymore, one hand reaching up to cup and cover his face.

"Imagine me often," Hermann asks incredulous, raising an eyebrow in a way that he _must_ know is terribly distracting.

"Ha ha," Newt replies bitterly. "Too often. Only fitting I would be now too. Always kind of hoped it'd be more dramatic than this though- not death by a fraction of a damaged Kaiju brain in the lab."

"You're not dying, you over-dramatic idiot. You could probably still stand to be checked over by someone in the infirmary, but you're still in one piece, and- well," he amends thoughtfully. "Reasonably lucid."

"Over-dramatic, huh? So what was that ' _you cannot do this to me'_ business then?"

"You're recovering in your bunk. You're not dreaming or hallucinating, and you most certainly are not dying," Hermann insists, avoiding the question.

" _Right_ , because you always call me Newt and all bass ackwardly admit you've got some kind of thing for me, and all this hate is really just cover for your insecurities."

"Bass ackward?"

"Oh c'mon, enough already. You're me! You know what that means. You-" Newt groans. "I'm not dying, am I?"

"No."

"So I actually kissed you."

"-Yes, you did."

"Crap! Hermann, I'm sorry."

 "I'm not."

"You're- you're not?"

"No, but you did surprise me before, and I'm sure I could do better- if you could be persuaded to try again," Hermann smiles softly, and _is that hope?_

"Yeah, I could probably be persuaded," Newt teases with a slight smirk, arms wrapping around the other man and pulling him closer into his arms.

The kiss is slower, a little softer, more deliberate on both their parts now each is expecting it and neither believes it's just some kind of dream. For a guy that probably doesn't have all that much (if any) experience kissing people, Newt has to admit that Hermann isn't too bad. He even manages to catch him by surprise, allowing his tongue to dart out, if only for a moment to brush experimentally over the younger man's lips, his own arms wrapping around him and anchoring him close. It can't be the most comfortable position for him, the angle Hermann is sitting at on the edge of the bed, even as he is allowing Newt to pull him closer, but he doesn't put up a single word of protest. It feels as though it's all too soon when Hermann is finally pulling back, though only enough to gently rest his forehead against his, and allow them both to draw in shaky breaths.

"Don't think this means I've completely forgiven you for this foolish stunt of yours."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Newt promises smiling happily. He's not the strongest guy in the world, but Hermann's not the biggest guy either, so somehow he manages to pull the older scientist the rest of the way up on to the bed so that Hermann is more or less lying on top of him, when he draws him back to his lips, fingers threading through his hair and thoroughly mussing it up now, while his other hand palms over his chest, exploring what he's been dreaming about but never dared think he might ever get to touch, stopping at his pectorals, seeking out and thrilling at the feel of his elevated heart-rate even through the wool of his sweater.

"Don't ever do that again," Hermann orders, the words just a little bit breathless as he rolls off of him, and curls his longer skinnier body around his beside him.

Newt isn't even sure what it is that Hermann is asking, or perhaps more accurately demanding of him. Never to risk his life? Never to drift with a Kaiju? But it doesn't seem to matter much anymore. When it comes down to it, when he was sure he was dying, Hermann had been there, and even if he hadn't turned out to be a vivid figment of his imagination, there isn't anyone else Newt could or would wanted to have imagined there with him in those final moments, or any moments they can have together while the world is doing it's best not to fall apart around them. He's not perfect. Newt knows even if Hermann isn't going to be actively trying to push him away anymore they're two  _very_ different people. There are bound to be things he will do or say that will get under the other man's skin or upset him. And these are desperate times. It nearly killed him yes, but the neural handshake with the Kaiju had to some extent worked. It did give him some information, however disjointed it might have been from the damaged piece he had to work with. It sounded as though the Marshall was determined to make it work again as soon as he could find the raw materials.

"I'll try," he promises softly. It's the best he can do. Thankfully it seems to be enough. Hermann nods with the hint of a wry sort of smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You had better," He mumbles into the corner of Newt's neck, dropping another soft kiss there that makes the younger man feel ridiculously warm and happy as he melts into the touch and his pillow. "You're not allowed to scare me like that again," Hermann whispers, one hand gently snaking beneath Newt's shirt, but not to coax or urge them both forward towards anything more heated, simply to caress and enjoy the warmth and sensation of skin against skin, which is somehow even better right now.

"-Love you too Hermann," Newt smiles dazedly, allowing his eyes to close. He freezes, every relaxed muscle tensing for a moment when he realizes what he's said, and he could have passed it off as being smart, except that there's no chance pressed against him, palm still flat over his belly that Hermann didn't feel his sudden fear, that the older man won't know that he didn't mean to say that, and just how much he really means it. But he doesn't remove his hand from where it's come to rest, doesn't roll away from him, or pull back from where he's tucked his face in close to his shoulder. He's not surprised, scared, or running away because Newt has said it too soon. Because somehow it's not, somehow it was always going to end up here, and moments like these are going to be hard enough to carve out without wasting time.

"Get some rest Newt," Hermann orders, thumb gently caressing his abdomen. "They'll come 'round looking for us soon enough to help them save the world."

"Yeah, alright Hermann," he sighs, relaxing once more in the other man's embrace, and slowly allowing himself to fall asleep.


End file.
